Truth and Irony
by Villis
Summary: Future slash. Repost, no updates. A young man believes the training of pokemon is wrong. He might have a point...
1. 1

Talan groaned softly to himself and spat blood into the dust, hacking to clear his lungs of the last of the foul fluid. He levered himself up on hands and knees, pausing to rest a moment before completing the torturous task of standing. He had to grope for a tree to lean against as black spots crowded his vision, his head hanging low as he gulped for air and tried to hold back the bile raising in his throat. The relief of vomiting wouldn't be worth the strain on sore, bruised ribs. The feeling pasted quickly and with a shaky sigh he limped his way to the nearest large rock and sat quickly before his legs could give way and ruin all his effort, taking stock with careful concentration. It pleased and surprised him to find things weren't quite so bad as he feared on first regaining consciousness, a bad headache and a twisted knee being the worst of his injuries. So long as the concussion didn't take a turn for the worst he wagered he should recover from his latest little act of pure stupidity. One of these days he'd learn to leave the heroics to those better suited or at least possessed of actual weapons rather than just a smart mouth and a flair for the dramatic.  
  
A motion blurred past the corner of his eye and he spun quickly, wincing as something in his chest twanged angrily at the motion. His mind screamed with angry criticism, frustrated at his own foolishness. He should have secured the area, should never have just assumed the trainers had left after he fell, should have gone for cover...  
  
But no angry adolescent stood there, fists raised with righteous indignation at a catch spoiled by overly bold interference. Instead Talan found himself nearly nose to muzzle with the little Pokemon he'd risked his health to keep free, the small being hovering in midair just out of reach. He drew back instinctively; surprised it hadn't fled like the wild ones usually did. Even the once tame ferals usually ran before the fighting ended, the proof of human violence reminding them of what they'd left behind. He scanned it for visible wounds and finding none allowed himself to relax, fairly sure that the little beast's appearance was good proof the ruffians had really departed. He hated to admit it but this had not been one of his better days or smoother rescues. It didn't really bother him that he'd been hurt but it would have been unforgivable if his foolishness had resulted in injury to the Pokemon.  
  
The diminutive creature was still watching him, bobbing up and down slightly as it cocked its head first to one side and then the other. He had to admit it was damn cute and not one of the common woodland breeds he was familiar with. Covered with short white fur, it sported long hind limbs, small ears, and a waving tail with a bulbous tail as distinctive features. It was the eyes that changed it from merely sweet to achingly adorable...they took up half its head, liquid and playful as it studied him with a solemn air that only made it harder to hold back his laughter. He clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and reached out slowly, suddenly eager to touch it, to pet that velvet looking coat. It had been a long time since he had contact with another living being and the sudden urge for physical contact was strong and disturbing. He didn't bother trying to analyze the source, content just to go with the feeling and hoping he didn't scare it away after it had chosen to stay.  
  
He barely had time to register the plush softness beneath his calloused fingertips before there was a flash of burning light and a sharp pain that spread swiftly throughout his body, igniting his nerves. He screamed, feeling all his muscles clench in tandem as they fought the surge of golden radiance that was setting his mind ablaze. He fell and knew he was falling but could do nothing to stop himself or cushion the blow, feeling his skull hit something hard and sharp with a pain he could hardly feel beneath the greater agony. The darkness that swiftly followed was a blessed relief, his last sight before the world faded entirely the menacing version of the Pokemon floating closer, body surrounded by glowing energy that sang with power.  
  
Ash followed Pikachu as they walked down the long trail, groaning as he hiked his backpack higher on his shoulders. He'd just finished restocking food supplies at a small, backwater town and the canvas carrier was full to bursting. He figured the added burden was worth Brock's cooking...but that didn't make the weight any less or the road any shorter and he felt he had the right to complain. To himself, anyway. Whining too much around Misty tended to get him smacked.  
  
"Pika!"  
  
He looked up at his partner's startled cry, fully expecting to see either Team Rocket or Gary. With the day he was having that would have only seemed right. He was met with something far more shocking and a little less ordinary. Pikachu was crouched in the dirt, sparks flaring from her cheeks as she faced off against a small, white Pokemon with huge black eyes. His brain, for once, supplied the needed information, halting his automatic reach for Dexter.  
  
Mew. Rarest of Pokemon. Psychic. Priceless.  
  
"Thundershock, Pikachu!" he shouted, body tensing with the sudden rush of adrenaline. Forget Pokemon Master, he'd be King if he could pull off this capture. Gary would be BEGGING to study under him.  
  
The electric mouse's cheek sacs glowed brighter as Mew rose higher in the air, long tail swinging in agitated circles. Ash held his breath, alreadly calculating which Pokemon to choose next if the first attack failed. He wished he still had Haunter with him...it seemed terribly naïve now not to have kept a Pokemon of each type available. Though for a capture this important he might just send out everyone he had...  
  
"Mew!" the psychic Pokemon whispered before Pikachu could release her attack, its voice barely audible over the sudden and raising wind. "Mew, mew..."  
  
Ask saw the understanding dawn over his partner's features even as the electricity crackling around her grew stronger. It was too late to abort the attack but Pikachu suddenly spun, letting the jolt arch out in the opposite direction.  
  
That just happened to be directly where Ask was standing, but he was getting sadly used to such things by now.  
  
"This had better be important, Ash!" Misty grumbled as yet another tree branch scratched her cheek, squinting her eyes as she tried to keep track of the dim white shape they were tracking. Ask ducked the flexible bough she had purposely let fling back at him and scowled, gesturing to the Pokemon riding on his head.  
  
"Pikachu said someone was in trouble. Blame her, not me."  
  
They both nearly stumbled into Brock as he broke clear of the underbrush and into a clearing, stopping dead in his tracks as Mew flew forward to hover over a shaking frame only a few feet from them. A young man lay against the base of an old tree, his entire body shaking with convulsions that made his limbs spasm and spine arch.  
  
"MEW!" the white pokemon screamed what was a clear order, tail whipping in great circles. The noise shook them free of their shock and Brock actually cursed, letting his backpack slid off his shoulders as he lurched forward and dropped to his knees at the stranger's side. Moving as quickly as he could and desperately ignoring the anxiety twisting his stomach, he pulled the man away from the trunk and rolled him onto his side, noting the blood staining auburn hair with a frown.  
  
"What is it? What's wrong with him?" Ash asked, voice cracking with his fear. He still stood with Misty at the entrance to the clearing, hesitating to come any nearer. Brock couldn't really blame them. If he weren't experienced with the sight he probably would have joined them.  
  
"He's having a seizure," he said, taking care to keep his voice calm and not mentioning it seemed like a more serious convulsion than he'd ever seen. "I think it'll be over soon. My younger brother has them."  
  
He could remember Timmy shaking like this on the kitchen floor more than once, his small body flailing. They'd had to be so careful of him...it seemed like so little could cause one of the dreaded 'attacks'. Flashing lights, too much excitement, a cold bath. The worst had been all the crying. It was hard for a six year old to understand why he  
couldn't play video games like his friends. Even harder to explain to all his brothers and sisters why they couldn't have such things in the house either. Not that they could have afforded such high tech toys.  
  
He really missed those kids.  
  
"Do you think Mew is his Pokemon?" Misty asked tentatively, drawing him out of his memory.  
  
"I guess so. Wonder how he caught it?" Ask said, eyeing the still hovering Pokemon with a hungry gleam. Brock shrugged, more concerned with trying to keep the stranger from hurting himself than any mysterious rare Pokemon, even if it was floating almost directly over his head. The spasms seemed to be lessening in intensity and he let his own muscles relax, reaching back to snag his backpack and starting to search through it.  
  
"Do we have any of that juice left?" he asked, eyeing the other man's size and pulling random clothing out. He didn't think any of his would fit too well but it was better than nothing. Ash's wouldn't even come close.  
  
"How could you think of drinking now?" Misty snapped, finally venturing forward a few steps. Brock bit back a sigh and uncharacteristic angry remark, knowing his frustration was just his own fear. Still, he found her response rather amusing considering she had just been musing on the poor guy's Pokemon while he lay seizing in front of her.  
  
"It's not for me. He'd going to need to drink but juice is better than water. Do we still have some or not?"  
  
"Yeah, a little," Ash answered, pulling the half full bottle from his own bag. Now that the convulsions had fully stopped he was brave enough to walk all the way over to hand off the drink. Brock saw his nose wrinkle and his eyes widen as he smelled the bitter tang of ammonia in the air and took in the patch of dampness on the unconscious boy's worn and patched jeans. "Brock, he..."  
  
"It's a common reaction to a seizure, Ash" Brock interrupted before his companion could go on, hoping he'd take the hint and just let it go. Seizures were embarrassing enough without someone pointing out the lack of control that sometimes accompanied them. "It's not his fault."  
  
"You sure know a lot about this," Misty said, "I'm glad you're here. Ash just would have panicked."  
  
"Yeah, like you're dealing any better. You'd have run like a little girl!"  
  
Brock didn't bother to stop the developing argument, his lips curving up in small smile at the welcome bit of the ordinary. The sniping match didn't get a chance to turn into full blown fighting, dying quickly as the young man at their feet started to stir. Brock leaned over him, smiling in reassurance when slanted gray eyes opened and focused on him.  
  
"Hey there," he said softly, "I'm Brock. You had a seizure. Can you tell me your name?"  
  
"Talan," the teen mumbled absently, eyes alreadly traveling past his rescuer to Ash and Misty. He didn't spare them much interest either, tilting his head up slightly to take in the area around them, neck trembling with the strain. He was obviously searching for something.  
  
"Your Pokemon right's there." Ash said helpfully and surprisingly logically, pointing.  
  
Talan shifted to look at the small creature that was almost right above his head, shaking his head to clear the rough cut bangs from his eyes. For a few seconds they merely stared at each other, Mew's glossy back eyes reflecting anxious gray. The Pokemon made a soft questioning noise deep in its chest and drifted down, the thick tip of its tail brushing the prone boy's chest.  
  
Chaos exploded. Brock was thrown rudely back as Talan rolled to his feet, staggering on unsteady legs. His posture was tense, his gaze focused only on Mew. The Pokemon purred and lashed the length of its tail as it tried to come forward, bobbing erratically to follow Talan's movements as he tried to duck away. Brock made it to his feet just in time to watch the stranger he'd tried to help turn and flee, stumbling badly as he disappeared into the thick growth of trees.  
  
"Mew mew mew mew! Mew!" the psychic Pokemon whispered, gaze now on Pikachu where he sat perched on Ash's shoulder. The electric mouse nodded sharply.  
  
"Pika" she said simply and plainly. Mew spun once in place and was gone, vanishing in a burst of blue light that made them all squint and shield their eyes.  
  
Brock shook his head slowly, wincing as he rubbed his left shoulder where he'd hit the ground. He joined Ash and Misty where they stood in stunned silence. "I have no idea, so don't ask me," he said when they both glanced at him.  
  
"Pika. Pikachu chu, pika pika."  
  
Ash swallowed audibly, listening closely as his partner tugged on his hair and spoke rapidly. "Mew isn't his Pokemon. He was trying to help it and it got scared and hit him with psychic power. It was trying to say it was sorry. It asked Pikachu to find him before he gets hurt worse," he translated.  
  
"I guess Mew caused the seizure then," Brock said, "I didn't know it could do that. No wonder he was scared."  
  
"Well, let's go then." Misty said with a sigh, looking rather frustrated and put out, "I hate late night rescues."


	2. 2

Talan's world was panic. It blinded him, consumed rational thought until he was left with only a haze of instinct. The pain of the Pokemon's attack had been so extreme, so overwhelming, that the idea of experiencing it again dissolved his usual calm into simple animal impulse. There was shouting and noise close behind him but he didn't look back, convinced he would see a white shape flying at his heels. There was a burning in his chest and blood in his throat but he couldn't regain enough control to even slow despite the protests of his straining body. There was no place to hide, no way to fight, and so to run was all he had. He stumbled across a small stream, soaking his ruined jeans as he lost his balance and fell to his knees, fingers clawing into the mud as he tried to get his feet under him.  
  
Without warning strong arms were wrapped around him, pinning his arms to his sides. He screamed in frustration and fear, bucking against the grip that didn't waver.  
  
"It's alright! Calm down, it's safe!"  
  
Between the pounding of his pulse and hard panting, he could scarcely hear the shouted words, let alone make sense out of them. A rough growl bubbled from his throat as he threw his head back hard in hopes of catching his captor's face. The arms kept their hold and all too soon his meager supply of strength was exhausted and he sagged, breath coming in small whining gasps. Shaking racked his entire body, every muscle torn by mini seizures made his own body alien and uncontrollable.  
  
"You're fine. That's it. Relax."  
  
Wearily he shifted as far as he was allowed, taking in a vaguely familiar tanned face. It took a minute to place the visage as the same he 'd seen staring down at him when he'd woken. His mind associated the stranger with the Pokemon who'd attacked him and weakly he tried to pull away, the effort more for show than a serious try at escape.  
  
"Where?" he whispered, putting all the questions he needed answered into the single word.  
  
The other teen let him retreat, holding his hands out in a placating gesture. "It's gone. I promise."  
  
"Gone?" he repeated dumbly, driven to the edge of his endurance by pain and stress. "Sure?"  
  
"Positive," the stranger assured, his tone so matter of fact it was difficult not to believe. Talan looked cautiously around, verifying for himself that the immediate threat was gone. The darkness was close now, warm and comforting, familiar now after a day that seemed spent more unconscious than aware. He let himself slide into without struggle, happy for the rest it promised.  
  
"That was strange," Ash said carefully. Brock looked up from where he was adjusting their new companion's limp form into a comfortable position and nodded in full, heartfelt agreement.  
  
"He'll probably be a little more, um, sane when he wakes up. Seizures can really mess you up," he offered, smiling in thanks when Misty deposited a load of firewood nearby. He dearly hoped he was telling the truth and that the confusion the other man had showed was just exhaustion and not anything deeper. He'd put up quite a fight when Brock had caught up to him, the screaming fit so extreme that for a moment the Pokemon breeder actually thought the stranger was entering another convulsion. The fight had left him quickly though...a bit too quickly for comfort, really, his gratitude at Brock's pledge of safety evident and almost child like. Had Mew's blast destroyed something that couldn't be fixed?  
  
Shaking the question away, Brock took a good look at the stranger for the first time as the other two got the small fire started. Dark brown hair fell halfway down his back, tangled now with dirt and leaves and matted with sweat. His features were fine boned and prominent, jutting cheekbones pointing to little food for too long. He had the frame of a runner, all long limbs and angles. Brock wagered that even when he wasn't half starved he was still on the slender side, though right now he was so thin as to be almost painful to look at. His clothing was old and torn, patched at all the major joints and stained darkly with what might have been blood or only sweat. He looked about Brock's age, though that was hard to really guess through the dirt and lines of stress.  
  
One thing was certain to Brock's mind...this was no typical town boy out on a Pokemon journey. Any registered traveler had free use of Pokemon centers and hospitals. He doubted Talan had seen the inside of any town for a good long time, though he couldn't fathom why that would be the case. Even if he'd run into trouble at home there was always the next town, the next city. Youth these days were expected to pick up and move around, encouraged by the town councils to go out and see the world.

His curious thoughts started to dissolve as his own weariness caught up to him. Misty had gotten the fire up to a decent height and the warmth was penetrating his bones, driving out the early autumn chill. He'd be the first to admit it had been a long strange night and soon he joined the other three in easy sleep.  
  
Talan woke slowly and to much more pleasant emotions than the last time. He was warm and covered with a thick blanket and all his various aches and pains seemed distant and vague. He stretched lazily and yawned, enjoying the hazy moments between sleeping and waking.  
  
"Hey, you're up!" a young, high-pitched voice squealed practically in his ear. "How you feeling?"  
  
He yelped in surprise, sitting up quickly as memories of the past night came rushing back. He looked around cautiously and with a jaded eye. A young boy was sitting by the remains of a campfire only a few feet away, grinning at him with a rather blank vapid look. A girl with odd hair stood next to the kid with a slightly less cheerful expression, though neither of the two looked outright hostile. Even if they did try anything he felt sure he could take them, even weak and shaky as he felt. They were just youngsters, probably playing games in the vast forest and unaware of the dangers he'd recently become so intimately familiar with.  
  
"I'm fine," he said in answer, though now that he was fully awake every muscle and joint was reporting in with various complaints. He was fairly sure he'd strained everything it was possible to. He took a deep breath to test his ribs, pleased when only a dull ache presented itself and no stabbing agony. If only the blurry vision would clear he might actually consider himself in fair shape....  
  
"You looked pretty bad yesterday. Why'd Mew hurt you?" the girl asked, plopping to the ground and resting her arms on raised knees.  
  
"Mew?" he repeated, examining his memories and remembering the noises of the Pokemon that had hurt him so badly. "I tried to touch it." He flushed then, recalling his mad dash though the underbrush.  
  
"I apologize for my behavior last night," he said stiffly, wrestling with the desire to pull the blanket over his head and hide there. Embarrassment wasn't an emotion he had to deal with often, spending so much of his time alone, and he wasn't sure how to handle it. "I do thank you for the assistance. I should leave now."  
  
He threw back the sleeping bag and cover, fully intending to make a quick and dignified retreat back to his solitude.  
  
It took a good twenty seconds before the draft made him realize he was bare assed naked.  
  
He was really starting to suspect a worldwide conspiracy lately. 


End file.
